


Business as Usual

by arthursarse



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Business AU, Human Names Used, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthursarse/pseuds/arthursarse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alasdair isn't chosen as the next president for his company, he tries to convince Francis to change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business as Usual

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by me in August of 2012. I'm moving it from F.F. and tumblr to here.

The blinds in the meeting room had been closed upon request as everyone had left. The meeting had gone just as Francis planned, the committee agreeing upon the next president for a neighboring branch. Francis had managed to bribe most of the people in the room to agree with him, although it wasn’t that difficult. He was the head of the company after all, but that meeting was nearly half an hour ago and once that door closed he was no longer in control.

“Ah! Yes! Ah-Alas…hnng.”

Alasdair had him bent over the large table in the middle of the room. Francis’ clothes scattered on the floor around his feet, his own tie keeping his wrists together behind his back. He had given up on trying to stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head, a line of saliva escaping his lips. Francis had already come once, but Alasdair wasn’t one to go easy on him and didn’t even slow down when the Frenchman first dirtied the table with his essence. Alasdair clearly wasn’t happy with how the meeting went, if his pace was anything to go by. He nearly tore the other’s clothes away, deciding to leave on most of his own clothing, only taking off his pants enough to get the job done. Alasdair had been rough on the man below him, hardly stretching him at all before forcing himself inside and starting at a hard, fast pace. Each thrust pushed Francis’ body hard against the table, hitting his thighs and making him gasp in pain.

Francis hadn’t fought it, taking all the pain with the pleasure as he was abused in his own business. He was trying to hide the sounds from anyone outside of the room hearing, holding back moans each time Alasdair found his sweet spot. Secretly, he loved it when sex got this rough. It made his partner possessive and unforgiving, something that Francis rarely got from anyone else but Alasdair. Francis’ wrists ached, his thighs started to bruise, and his throat was sore. Alasdair ran one hand from his hips up his spine till his fingers made contact with blond locks. He pulled, forcing Francis’ head back as Alasdair leaned down to bite on sensitive skin on his neck. Alasdair nipped the skin in several spots before settling on one place at the back of his neck to really dig his teeth into. Francis moaned, not just from the feeling, but the knowledge of what those kinds of bites meant to Alasdair. It was animalistic, a way to mark his territory and make sure the other couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. The teeth let go, a wet purple mark left on his skin in favor of whispering in his ear.

“You are going to change th’ committee’s choice,” Alasdair told him, never missing a beat with his thrusting, but even though all the pleasure Francis managed to shake his head.

“Non! It’s final. I won’t do it.” He heard the other growl in his ear before the hand on his hair moved down to his confined wrists. Another pull and they had changed positions, forcing the loudest moan yet to escape from Francis’ throat. Alasdair forced them both backwards to sit in the large black chair behind them. It was the largest chair in the meeting room, the head of the table, the chair reserved for Francis. If his employs hadn’t heard them before, they would have now. This position was so much deeper, Alasdair having to hold on to the bottom of Francis’ thighs as he bounced in his lap. Francis’ head rolled back, the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and moans he no longer tried to hold back.

It was all too good and he could feel the familiar warmth of another orgasm pooling in his stomach. His moans grew louder. Alasdair groaned, feeling the other’s body starting to tighten around him. It would be over soon, for both of them. Francis felt his jaw fall open again, preparing for the final moan that would come with his second orgasm, when Alasdair suddenly stopped thrusting and wrapped his hand tightly around the base of Francis’ cock. Francis’ eyes shot open, looking down in disbelief as he was denied the pleasure of finishing.

“Alasdair! Please! I was so close.” Alasdair scowled, his hand squeezing around the base even tighter to prove his dominance. It was about time he got some answers.

“Why?” Francis whined, turning to look over his shoulder at his partner.

“W-why what?”

“Why did you choose him tae be th’ president of th’ United Kingdom branch?” A sigh, so Alasdair was still talking about business and meetings. Sometimes, Francis really wished the other could learn to live in the moment.

“He will do a good job, Alasdair, and with him in control you…you won’t have any reason to say ‘no’ when I offer you a job here, with me.” It was true, Francis had more personal reasons to pick someone else for the job. The U.K. branch was too far for Francis’ tastes, he would rather keep his more personal interests close by. Alasdair’s scowl fell and he nuzzled Francis’ back to hide the warm smile starting to appear on his lips. So Francis hadn’t chosen someone else because he thought the other deserved it more or because he thought another person would have been better at the job. Once again, Alasdair had gotten angry and snapped without having any reason to be upset.

“You could hae jist offered me th’ job beforehand.”

“I was scared you would turn it down.” Another sigh came from Alasdair, his grip on the base of Francis’ cock loosening.

“Francis,” He whispered, starting to thrust into his partner once again, “You should know me better than ‘at by now.” Francis couldn’t reply, back to whimpering and gasping as Alasdair picked up the pace once again. He was being much gentler this time, but just as fast and deep as before. The hand on his crotch returned, this time stroking his member in an attempt to get him to cum sooner. Francis let his head fall back again, biting his bottom lip trying to hold back, but Alasdair knew better. He felt the way Francis tightened around him with each thrust, the way he was starting to hold his breath, his back arching to the feeling. Alasdair watched the expression change on his face, growing deeper and deeper in pleasure.

“That’s right, Francis, cum for me,” He ordered, his hand picking up the pace. Francis looked at the other over his shoulder one last time. It may have been the way the other dominated him or that smile he saw in that last moment of passion, but he obeyed.

“Alasdair…” his name slipped out without him meaning it to, eyes falling shut and his back arching as he came for the second time. He came in ribbons, covering his own stomach before having it drip down onto his leather chair. Alasdair couldn’t wait any longer, the sight was too arousing. He pushed in all the way before letting himself go, grunting as he filled the other with his seed. Pressing his forehead to Francis’ back, he rested for a moment.

Francis smiled, feeling the warmth rush over him as his lover finished. Sore and red from their lovemaking, his wrists were untied first. But the moment Alasdair lifted Francis up to pull out, he turned Francis’ body around to kiss him. Francis was surprised at first, but quickly returned the kiss. An apology, he was sure, for Alasdair’s earlier unnecessary roughness. It was not needed, Francis having loved every moment of it, but he accepted it anyways, allowing their tongues to tangle together until the need for air forced them apart. Alasdair kept their eyes locked, chuckling under his breath.

“Arthur better not fuck up 'is promotion of his.” Francis found himself smiling too, happy to see this disagreement coming to end.

“He’s stubborn and he has the most annoying ego, but when it is time to get serious or if there is a problem he always knows how to handle it. He’ll be fine.” Alasdair agreed, sitting back in the chair as Francis pulled away to get dressed again. His tie was torn, his hair a mess, and outfit wrinkled from lying on the floor. There was no way he was going to be able to hide the bite on his neck or the burns on his wrist, but at least the workday would be over soon. Then he could go home and put on enough make up to hide it.  
Alasdair continued to wait, allowing Francis to leave first so it wouldn’t look so suspicious. At the door Francis paused, turning back to look at the other.

“And Alasdair?”

“Aye Francis?”

“We’re still on for dinner, right?”

“Ay, Aye, of course, Ah’ll be at your place at aicht.”

Francis smiled back at him, opening the door and stepping out. Yep, the meeting had gone exactly as planned.


End file.
